


Television (Wilson)

by CaptainTulip



Series: Television [2]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 02:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTulip/pseuds/CaptainTulip
Summary: Wilson is watching... television, and House joins him. Set during season 2.





	Television (Wilson)

Sometimes," House says angrily, fumbling with his keys in the door, "you just get so," he shoves the key in, "damn," he turns it forcefully, "sick of," he mutters as he swings open the door, "bloody moral heroes!" he concludes loudly, looking around for Wilson's reaction and inevitable admiration.  
  
But the couch is empty. House blinks, and frowns to himself. "Wilson?" he calls, and there is no answer. He closes the door, his mind ticking over, and he paces to the bathroom. The chrome tiles are sparkling, the floor is dry, and the small room is completely empty.  
  
House cocks his head. "Huh," he says to himself. He limps to his bedroom, his mind set on the bottle of whiskey he'd stashed away in his bedside drawer so that Wilson wouldn't find it, but as he kicks open the door, his heart misses a beat when he realises there's already someone in there.  
  
Wilson's eyes go wide, and his mouth falls open. "House," he says stupidly, looking both shocked and guilty.  
  
House stares at him for a moment. Wilson is sitting on an old wooden chair, and he's set up the television in front of him. "What are you doing in my room?" House asks with a frown.   
  
"You're back early."  
  
House turns his head slightly. "You're in my room because I'm back early?"  
  
"No," Wilson says, and his cheeks are slightly flushed. "I - I just wasn't expecting you until...later."  
  
"So you sneaked into my room to sniff my pillows? Go through my underwear drawer?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. I - just wanted to watch some T.V."  
  
House nods slowly. "In my room. What, the reception's better in here?"  
  
Wilson shakes his head. "No. Well, maybe. I mean, it's entirely possible-"  
  
House narrows his eyes, staring at Wilson calculatingly. "What're you watching?"  
  
Wilson runs a hand through his hair, and crosses his legs. "Just...a movie."  
  
"You're lying."  
  
Wilson splutters, and the tips of his ears start to go a little red. "I am not!" he protests.  
  
"You're getting defensive," House says, reaching into his pocket for his pills. "Must be something bad."  
  
Wilson shakes his head, his mouth opening and closing. "I-"  
  
"The Brady Bunch? Sweet Home Alabama?" House limps over to Wilson. "Watership down?" Wilson hastily grabs the remote and turns off the television, but not before House catches a glimpse of the screen. He stares at the blackening television screen for a moment, trying to imprint the image into his mind.   
  
"Porn," he says triumphantly. "You dirty, dirty man."  
  
Wilson shakes his head. "I just -"  
  
"Needed to get off?" House glances at Wilson's lap. "Yeah, I can see that."  
  
Wilson splutters. "It's perfectly normal for a grown man to..."  
  
"Not in my  _bedroom_ ," House scowls. "And anyway, you're supposed to hang a stethoscope-"  
  
"I wasn't...going to..."  
  
"You weren't? What are you, impotent?"  
  
"No!" Wilson says, scandalised.  
  
"No, of course not..." House muses. "You've probably inseminated half the country by now."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Wilson asks, managing to add a hurt tone to his voice quite successfully.  
  
"It means I just called you a  _slut_." House pops a vicodin. "Got a problem with that?"  
  
"I - I - well, I -"  
  
"Naked chicks got you good, huh?"  
  
Wilson takes a deep breath, and crosses his arms across his front. "Look, would you mind...?" he trails off, looking meaningfully at the door.  
  
House stares at him a moment. "You're kicking me out of my own  _room_?"  
  
"No," Wilson says, but House can hear the  _Yes_  quite strongly. "I'm just - asking for some privacy..."  
  
"Privacy in  _my_  room."  
  
Wilson manages to shrug in a manner that makes him look terribly victimised, even though he'd blatantly entered House's territory without permission. House pauses to think for a moment.  
  
"Well, you know what they say," he says, and settles himself down on the edge of the bed, "when life hands you porn you say, sure, why not?"  
  
Wilson stares at him a moment, the red on his cheeks getting slightly darker. "You're not - seriously considering -"  
  
"Considered, evaluated, decided upon. Pass me the remote."  
  
Wilson continues staring.  
  
"Or develop sudden onset paralysis of the neck and eyes, that's good too," House quips, and reaching over he plucks the remote from Wilson's hand. He turns on the television, and it immediately flicks to the same channel. Three girls, all with ridiculous names and oversized breasts, have apparently forgone the usual tea and biscuits, and gone immediately to the...main course. "Oh, yeah," House says. "I've seen this one."  
  
"You have?"  
  
House nods. "She gets the chocolate sauce in her -"  
  
"House!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just -"  
  
"Shut up and watch the porn?"  
  
" _Yes_ , goddammit!"  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be Jewish?" House asks, and smirks a little when he notices Wilson's fingernails digging into his palms. He goes back to watching the screen, and wonders whether antagonsing Wilson will be just as effective if Wilson notices he's starting to get turned on. They watch for a few minutes in silence, apart from their rapidly increasing breathing. House lays his cane down on the ground, and shifts discreetly. "It's getting a little hot in here," he notes, and Wilson nods.  
  
"Yeah," he says shortly, and House looks over to see Wilson watching the screen intently, his tongue licking his bottom lip ever so slightly. His pants are straining just a little, and the flush has spread from his cheeks and ears down his neck. House takes a moment to study Wilson's neck, something he doesn't often see due to the stupid ties Wilson always insists on wearing, before looking back at the screen. He swallows thickly. He'd always thought his bedroom was a little on the small side, and now it feels like an oven. No, not as large as an oven. A microwave.  
  
One of the girls moans particularly loudly as she is set upon by the two others, and Wilson makes a muffled sound, almost like a badly disguised whimper.   
  
"She's - " House starts to say, and stops to clear his throat when it catches on the word. "She's good looking, that one."  
  
Wilson's swallow is clearly audible, and House wonders if maybe he's storing treacle in there. "Yeah," he says breathily.  
  
"Don't much like the blonde," House continues, trying to seem indifferent. "When she...when she does  _that_ ," House has to take a moment to pause, "she looks a little bit like Chase."  
  
Wilson grimaces. "Can we not talk about Chase now?"  
  
House glances at him. "Not one for that whole Australian thing?"  
  
"More the whole - boy thing."  
  
House snorts. "Oh, come on. Rumour has it you were the biggest twink in high school -"  
  
"Says who?" Wilson demands, finally pulling his eyes away from the screen to stay incredulously at House.  
  
House shrugs. "A little birdy." He smirks. "A little birdy called Ron Thompson from oncology."  
  
Wilson shakes his head. "That  _bastard_ ," he says, turning his eyes away from House back to the screen.  
  
"So it's true?" House presses.  
  
"What? Of course not!"  
  
"Damn, I was going to suggest we hop into bed after this -"  
  
Wilson's eyes snap back to House's. " _What_?"  
  
"Gotcha."  
  
Wilson shakes his head, but doesn't reply, settling back into his chair to watch. They stare at the screen together, as the girls writhe around in chocolate sauce, and House swallows, again. He tries to cross his legs a little, but it doesn't work, so he tries to nonchalantly settle his hands onto his lap. He sneaks a peak over at Wilson, who is rubbing his crotch almost absent-mindedly.  
  
"Don't you dare get spunk on my carpet," House warns, and Wilson starts.  
  
"I wasn't..." he trails off, and though House didn't think it possible, he blushes more. "I'm not going to -"  
  
"Why? You can." House doesn't know what possessed him to say it.  
  
Wilson's eyes flick between him and the screen. "I can," he repeats, unsurely.  
  
A secret part of House  _wants_  Wilson to. Imagine that, him jerking himself off right there in House's room. House doesn't understand his sudden fascination with it, but now he just wants to see if he can push Wilson over that  _edge_. If he can  _make_  him do it.  
  
"Sure. Unless you're too chicken," House sneers.  
  
"What are we, five?" Wilson says, but his voice cracks a little.  
  
"Is that why you're scared? Afraid I'll think you...underdeveloped?"  
  
"No! House, I -"  
  
"Look at her," House says, nodding to the screen, suddenly filled with a perverse kind of energy. "Look at that at that ass. Look at that tight little -"  
  
" _House_!"  
  
"I'm not looking. Look, I'm turning my head away," House says, and shifting on the bed he turns to face his bedside table. He waits silently, the small room filled with nothing but the noises of orgasming females.  _You're no fun_ , is sitting on his lips as he is about to turn around and sigh, when suddenly he hears the rustling of clothes, pants being unzipped, and the sound of flesh against flesh.  
  
House freezes. He can't believe Wilson is... _actually_...  
  
He waits, his breath held, and can't resist rubbing at his erection a little bit. The thought that Wilson is just over a meter away, wanking himself, fills House with an odd sort of...well, he supposes glee.  _What half the nursing staff wouldn't do to be in my place right now,_  House thinks with a smirk.  
  
Suddenly, there is a very definitely masculine gasp of, " _Ungh_!", and House hears a quiet splatter. He waits a few moments.  
  
"Well," he says, standing up, " _that_ ," he says less than delicately, "was not what I was expecting."  
  
House hears the television being switched off. "House - " Wilson says breathily, and House holds up his hand.  
  
"As the famous philosopher Keating once said," House says, grabbing his cane and limping out of the door, "' _You say it best when you say nothing at all_.'"  
  
House limps his way down into the bathroom, and he hears Wilson hastily following him. "House, I didn't -"  
  
" _The smile on your face lets me know that you need me,_ " House croons loudly in a bad irish accent.  
  
"I think we need to talk about -"  
  
" _There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me..._ " House closes the bathroom door behind him.  
  
"I'm sorry, alright? But damn it, if you hadn't come home -"  
  
" _The touch of your hand_ -"  
  
"You said that I could -"  
  
"- _says you'll catch me whenever I fall..._ "   
  
"House just -"  
  
" _You say it best -_ "  
  
"- open the God damned door!"  
  
"- _when you say nothing at all._ "  
  
House turns the shower on, and not another word is heard.


End file.
